


The Brat Prince And His Icy Bottom

by Pink_and_Velvet



Series: I’d Know You No Matter Who We Were [6]
Category: Interview With the Vampire (1994), Top Gun (1986), Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Depression, Devils, Dom/sub Undertones, Fantasy, Fledglings, Guys kissing, Hell, Insults, Interview, M/M, Pyromania, Slavery, Tears, Vampires, narration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-12 00:17:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20162539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/pseuds/Pink_and_Velvet
Summary: An Interview With The Vampire AU of Top Gun.“You want death? Is that what you want?” A haunting voice sliced through him. “You want death, Monsieur Kazansky?”He fell to his knees. Both hands gripped at the frills of his collar, popped open the buttons. He lay still, palms flexed. He tipped his head back, his eyes were closed.He knelt like a goddamn sacrifice, awaiting his gruesome end.“Yes”Writersmonth Day 10 Prompt: Dark AU





	1. Pleased To Meet You, Hope You Guessed My Name.

**Author's Note:**

> Takes many liberties and is based more on taking the mick with the Cruise/Pitt vamp flick, keeping too the start of the film.
> 
> There is no Claudia and Lestat (Maverick) isn’t burned to leave Louis wandering for centuries. So it’s mainly just angsty Louis (Iceman) and pyromania jokes, with some hot gay sex because it’s necessary.
> 
> I am so sorry, Anne Rice and diehard Vampire Chronicles fans. You deserve better than this.

_So, you want me to tell you the story of my life. You’d have to have a lot of tape for my story. I’ve had a very unusual life…_

The ghostly figure shot up besides the man, who jumped and dropped his cassette. His eyes were an extreme blue, gaze piercing, he was unable to tear his own startled self away. His skin was white, only his veins added any sense of colour. His cheeks were hollow, well defined. His lips were plush and inviting, they gleamed in the dim of the light when he licked them.

“Nick Bradshaw.” The reporter stretched out his hand. It wasn’t taken. He quickly withdrew, scratching his moustache instead.

He took a seat, dumping his bag on a small cream coffee table, with warn out table legs that creaked with the added weight.

“You really believe that you are a vampire?” Nick questioned, holding up his tape towards the man. “You really think this?”

He had a silver tint to his skin when he turned again, basking in the shadows as he took a seat on the far side of the confined space.

Nick’s eyes roamed all over the creature. He was trying to fool him, decked out in a thick black suit that was perfectly tailored. He had long blonde hair that gleamed, neatly tied into a ponytail. Whenever he walked, he thrusted his hands deep into his suit trouser pockets. He’d puff his chest out. He also wore a single ring, on his right hand, the colour was rich and inviting, the sapphire contrasted harsh against the pure gold.

“I have been a creature of the night for over the last two hundred years so, do not question it. Now, let me start from the start. The one who made me.”

“Made.. _made_ you?”

“Yes, the one who bestowed this beloved gift of immortality onto his fledgling, at a poor attempt of finding his companion.” The vampire spat, teal blue gaze firmly on the pale wall in front of him.

“What was his name?”

The silence lay thick. Nick, was holding on to the vampire’s every breath, every movement. He couldn’t coax the man’s reactions. He hadn’t a clue of any of his powers.

Nick squirmed again, turning himself back to the table. He picked up his cassette as a rich baritone filled his ears. He smiled to himself as he listened, enamoured with the tale. 

* * *

_I had just lost my sister during childbirth. Her and her infant had been buried less than a year. I hadn’t any other family. I was twenty four and couldn’t bare the pain of her loss, there wasn’t a soul on earth who could comfort me, who could keep me going. I knelt beside her tombstone, reading the script as though it were in braille. My forehead rested against it, I had my hands clutched at either side._

“Sister?”

“Yes, the light of my life.” His voice was firm, rich.”

He was sat on a worn out leather sofa on the far side of the room. In his right hand, he let a golden fountain pen dance across his knuckles. He wore one ring that too gleamed bright against his dull skin. It was sapphire, pure sapphire.

“So you had never married? Never fell in love with a woman.” It wasn’t a question.

The piercing blue gaze frosted over. He upped and shot his way over to the table.

Nick squirmed as a hand clutched at him, as though he was a child’s rag doll, tight and without mercy.

“This is my story, correct Brad—shaw?”

He heard Nick sigh and watched as his shoulders slumped.

“Shall I continue? You want to hear of one of the most vicious vampires to ever trace this earth, don’t you?”

His tone was non-negotiable. He was crouching at Nick’s right side, with a hand on his thigh. His aqua gaze was cold, intense. Nick fought to keep staring. 

* * *

_My invitation to end it was open to anyone who could face me. Sailors, whores, gamblers, thieves… but it was a vampire who took my challenge._

“You want _death_? Is that what you want?” A haunting voice sliced through him.

He pivoted comically, again and again, there wasn’t a sight of another living soul.  
He stumbled forward, shaking his head.

“You want death, _Monsieur Kazansky_?”

He fell to his knees. Both hands gripped at the frills of his collar, popped open the buttons. He lay still, palms flexed. He tipped his head back, his eyes were closed.

He knelt like a goddamn sacrifice, awaiting his gruesome end.

“_Yes_” his voice was small but harsh.

He heard a ‘swoosh’ and the next thing he knew he was on his back, wrists bound tight, head pinned to the ground.

His neck was pierced, a sharp shooting pain ran up and down his limp body. He shivered and convulsed as he was taken deeper, further testing his mortality.

He shouted then groaned in immense pain.

“I’m going to give you the choice. The choice that I, never had.” His words were growing in intensity. “You still want death? Or have you tasted it enough?” The voice spat, haunting.

He fought with himself to answer.

“E..en-_ough_.”

He was left shaking, doused in sweat. Blood ran free from his neck, his pristine white blouse splattered with it. 

* * *

_He left me half dead. I hadn’t a clue what had happened. I didn’t know where I was, what I was, or what happened to the demon seed who turned me._

_When I again awoke, their was a piercing pain behind my eyes. They had transformed, the vampire eyes. I blinked rapidly and then I opened them. My world had changed._

_I awoke to my last sunrise._

_I was in the cemetery, gazing at a bead of bright light that crept through the trees. I trudged my way through, ears full of everything from a cricket’s chirp to a rat’s chattering teeth._

_I arrived back at my sisters tombstone, at the angel that guarded her there. I turned to it, mouth agape and she’d moved. Her eyes were wide open, they followed my every step. I stumbled to the ground, hands over my head and shook all over._

_He left me half dead in the morning but he returned to me that night._

_He cornered me, throwing me to the ground. He took us on a roll. My neck and chest bare, he ran a thumb with some sharp, silver contraption covering it, down the centre of my chest. I know now that it was only a ring. I shivered under his touch._

_He ground my head to one side, ran a tender hand up the length of my neck, up the veins that stood out._

_It was right then and there, he sucked the life out of me._

_I became a full vampire, born to the dead of night. The powers became clearer, although I was weak. I was a baby to you so-called humans, just starting to find my feet. I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without Maverick or, I would’ve ended it all right then and there. _

* * *

“_Maverick_? What his uh, mother not like him or something?” Nick tried to laugh, anything to break the tension.

“I wouldn’t know, I never met Madame Mitchell. He never spoke of his family. I assumed he never had one. I would become his family, his pupil, schooled in the dark arts and his long life companion. Me with my Maverick. The one who made me.” His voice was rough, as though he didn’t want to say that name.

“Do you all have such weird names?”

“That’s just his vampire name. My human name had never changed although; as time went on, I thought as though it had died with my human soul the first time.”

“Human Name?”

He sighed, looked up to the ceiling. “Thomas Kazansky II” he ground out, turning back to Nick. “Or, you can call me by my fledgling name: The _Iceman_.” 

* * *

_My dying human body lay slave in my quarters, coughing and spluttering, head lolling from side to side. It was a slow death but no where near the greatest pain that I’d felt._

_Beside my dying self lay a man. He was dressed as the ultimate eccentric of the times. He wore a rich red jacket with gold accents, over a cream shirt that laced up at his back. His sleeves were turned back, revealing the ruffles that hid his smooth skin. He was every part a rich man, a tempter, a force to be fought but not always won: Maverick. _

* * *

“Ah, Mon chér, it’s about time you graced me with open eyes.”

“Who the.. hell..” he cut himself off, as the ghostly figure grabbed his face and inspected him.

“.. and what beautiful clear aqua eyes you now possess. The name, my Chosen One, is Peter Mitchell. But you needn’t remember that. _Maverick_.”

“Ma- Maverick. What’s… what is happening?”

“You are becoming a vampire my dear Ice—“ He brushed something off of his shoulder, “—man, you have been turned under my hand and belong to me.”

“_Thomas_.”

He laughed, a shrill laughter that tore deep from within Maverick’s throat.

“Oh no, no no no, my dear. You are mistaken. The presence of Thomas Kazansky died out there, in the cemetery. Where he belongs. You have been reborn, under my very hand. You are _Iceman_, with eyes pure and perfect, seeking out any and all enemies. A stoic presence, you hide all emotion. The only ones that will breach your tortured surface will be self degrading, confusion and frustration at the knowledge of not knowing what to do with yourself, not coping with your newfound isolation.”

Iceman’s mouth was working but he coughed, his only form of retaliation. He gripped harder at his pristine white bed sheets.

“You, mon chér, are frozen over, caught between following the light and being a full fledged vampire. There are a hell of a lot of things for you to get used too, once we get you out of this cage you call a bed chamber.”

Maverick was practically dancing around the bed, he gestured wildly, adding extra emphasis to words that Iceman was sure didn’t need it. He just lay there coughing, eyes averted. 

* * *

“Master Kazansky.. You don’t want to finish your supper, no?”

One of Kazansky’s slaves removed his untouched plate.

“Master.. please. You haven’t eaten, your skin like snow… when was the last time you visited the slave quarter?” Iceman turned to her, his gaze falling to the low cut of her blouse, her corseted figure.

Her exposed neck.

“Master, you spend all your time riding, for hours and hours. You spend all your time with that.. that man. What is he doing to you, sir? Please, just leave that friend of yours.” She begged.

Iceman wasn’t having any of it.

She leant forward to grab his wine glass, Iceman stopped her. He gripped her wrist tight.

“Master, _Master ah_.. Ka-za...” She yelped, as newly decorated fangs pierced her skin.

At that moment the window burst open. He let her drop to the floor at the sight of Maverick.

“Ah, yes. My child of the night has finally feasted on such flesh! And what a gorgeous choice you have made, might I add.” He gestured to the maid, with a wink. “Those breasts. Well played, Iceman.”

Iceman, if it was even possible, had grown paler. He looked to Maverick then to the woman on the floor, then back to Maverick. He panicked, he was shaking like a leaf, the urge to bolt was singing through his veins.

But that was the blood. His power. His life force.

“Finish it.” Iceman croaked out, setting Maverick off. “Get her out of here.” 

* * *

_Maverick had an eye on the finer things in life. He would feast once on a young, then later again in the night. His second target was always of the elite, the best of the best. He told me later on that I was his only kill of the night. That I had filled both requirements. That I was now his prodigy, a diligent student._

_I was a student that had no such place on such a course. _

* * *

Iceman trailed after Maverick, having the poodle of a rich aristocrat barking at his feet.

Iceman sat down, they were hand in hand. He kissed his knuckle.

“Mon chér, why did you pick me? I’m old enough to be your grandfather.” The man laughed, eyes roaming shamelessly over Iceman.

Maverick hadn’t even batted an eye when he chose Iceman his kill. A man: the head of the party. It didn’t matter to either of them. A man.

Iceman leant forward and descended into a trail of bites and licks down his throat. The aristocrat moaned under his touch and pulled Iceman in closer.

The poodle barked and barked. An irritating distraction. Before Iceman could stop himself, he had lurched forward and grabbed it.

Iceman snapped its neck.

The man yelled, distracting Maverick from his haunt. Maverick flew in beside him, and sucked the man dry. 

* * *

_Another night on the prowl and Maverick had found us two whores. A blonde woman whose shrill screams still tear throughout my dead soul, her name was Charlotte._

Maverick chuckled as another woman fell victim to him, his charm.

“It appears my dear Charlotte, that your friend has no head for wine. I have exhausted her.”

She laughed, taking off her clothes.

“I bet I can warm that _cold_ skin of yours much better than she can, Maverick.” Her tone was teasing, she dropped low.

Maverick kissed her, Iceman watched from behind. He kissed: her lips; her cheek; down her neck; and settled on her night gown.

She groaned, arching herself forward, coaxing Maverick closer. When he withdrew, she swallowed another moan.

Iceman nearly fainted at the sight of her.

She was screaming, fighting to stand up. Blood trickled down from her right breast, pooling on the floor. She screamed and screamed then she tripped over the table.

“I can’t.. I can’t _die_ like this. I need a.. I need a priest. _Save me!_” She fell into Iceman, who caught her.

“What are you talking about, this man is your priest. He’ll heal you of his sins before you die.” Maverick waltzed his way over to Iceman, tore Charlotte from his grasp.

He kicked open the table, and threw her to the ground.

She screamed and kicked to no avail.

“It’s a coffin. A _coffin_! Let me out!”

Maverick sealed her in.

“It’s your coffin my dear, enjoy it!” He quipped, jumping over it and sitting down atop it.

“Maverick.. Maverick this is wrong. Why do you do it?”

“I like to do it, it’s who I am. It’s _dangerous_. I am a killer Iceman and so are you. A cold blooded killer!” He yelled.

Charlotte, with a last ounce of strength, banged her fist from the inside. Iceman froze.

“The girl.. the girl. She’s not dead Mav—“

“—shut up.”

He dramatically ripped open the lid, yanking Charlotte out. There were tears streaming down her face, her blonde hair was skewed as the ringlets hung loose.

“She’s not dead.”

“Iceman, you finish it. Drink her blood.”

“No” he belted, stepping away from Maverick.

“Ice. You cannot spend your life feasting on rats and chickens. You’re weak, there aren’t enough of them to go about.” He joked, one hand around Charlotte’s neck with the other around his hip. He let her fall to the floor with a thud.

“You are a killer Ice. The longer you wait, the weaker you become. You can die in these early days. For the love of- you are a _killer_!” Maverick screamed from the top of his rotting lungs.

Iceman didn’t say anything. His bottom lip quivered and he panted. He shook his head, finding something suddenly very interesting on the velvet cushioning his feet.

He let a single tear fall.

“Forgive me Maverick, if I have an extended lease for life.”

Maverick grunted in frustration. He picked up Charlotte and drained her, Iceman was squirming at the sight of it.

Maverick threw her body back to the floor. He sauntered on up to Iceman.

He was a few inches shorter so, he hovered, took Iceman by the collar and bought him up too.

They were face to face, noses just inches apart. Breaths intermingling. Hands clutching desperately at the other.

Iceman parted his lips, in what was both shock and need.

“There aren’t enough chickens to get you through this life, Ice—man.” Maverick dropped him. 

* * *

_I was the soul heir to my fathers plantation. It lay deep in the meadows, far from any other. The Kazansky bloodline had been incredibly successful, ruler after ruler, had maintained the perfect estate in New Orleans. The amount of workers had grown, I had much help._

* * *

Maverick was at one end of the long, exquisite dining hall. It was painted a loving teal, with rich white pillars and walls covered in mirrors. Iceman was sat the other end. Maverick held a handful of grapes.

“Would you please stop that you imbecile.” Iceman grunted, as another grape hit him in the face.

Maverick just laughed.

“Oh come on now dear, I was just aiming for your _wine_ glass.”

“You do not seem fit to have a perfect aim.”

“I’ve never missed a target.”

Iceman scoffed, “I find that hard to believe. You wouldn’t know a willing target if he crawled up in-front of you, hands on his head, awaiting to be taken.”

“Is that how _you’d_ like to be taken?” He quipped.

Iceman flushed. He took hold of the glass and bought it to his lips.

“My idiot fiend.” Maverick murmured.

Iceman dropped his glass at the realisation but he didn’t spill a drop.

“You habe already rid me of my life.” His voice was small.

Maverick tossed another grape at him.

“_Missed_.”

“Oh have I, Iceman? There’s very little here for the both of us and somewhere, your frozen heart understands that too.” Maverick had risen from his seat, he strutted over to Iceman’s end of the table.

Iceman sat, with a hand to his head, inspecting his nails. His stance screamed his disinterest.

“We could, we should go to Paris. Try some French…” he added before he could stop himself, “…_cuisine_.” 

* * *

_The workers had been on my tail. I’d feasted upon the last of the livestock, and had murdered one of their own. Their fears intensified. I was the devil, sent to haunt and torture the poor souls who served me. They rioted._

“You must go, leave now. And yes your master _is_ the devil!” Iceman snarled, a slave, stained with blood, in his hands.

He shoved her corpse into the arms of another man, taking his ablaze torch.

He swayed it back and fourth, forcing them back.

“Run. _Run!_ You are all free men.” He screamed.

He ran back into his mansion, setting everything alight. From the cherished portraits that had been savoured by his family for generations to the newer crystal lamps and chandeliers. The walls were closing in on him with falling beams that he deftly avoided. He ran, forcing his torch into anything of any value.

Iceman came face to face with his ghostly self in the mirror. His skin was oddly heated, backlit by the flames. He was panting heavily. He grabbed a wine glass and threw it into his reflection then let fly the glass plates, assaulting it. The mirror cracked into a thousand tiny pieces, it shattered and fell to the floor.

“Perfect! _Perfect_! Just go ahead there and burn everything _we_ own.” Maverick was yelling as he took in his sights.

His emerald green eyes burned with the sight of the flames.

“And you, you imbecile! I’ve spent months in that damn shed of yours, months. To finally return to a proper roof over my head and you just go and _burn_ it!”

Iceman said nothing, he continued his path of terror up the stairs.

“Why must you even.. Iceman!”

A beam dropped from the ceiling, Maverick rushed in to pick Iceman up, to steer him away from it.

He flew back down to the ground and winced, the tail of his jacket had caught a spark.

“You swine.” Iceman grunted, as he wretched himself free from Maverick’s clutch.

“And here I had comprehended that you were the ice to my fire, not the Chosen Idiot who would _melt_ himself.”

“Pardon?”

The flames grew stronger, both were drenched. Maverick ran a hand through Iceman’s wet blonde locks, he yanked his head close.

Iceman was sure that he had stopped breathing for a moment.

Suddenly he was under Maverick’s arm as together they both bolted for the door. Iceman dropped his torch and the last of his mansion burned. The blaze didn’t stop. Neither looked back. 


	2. But What’s Puzzling You, Is The Nature Of My Game.

“It was then that I possessed the knowledge that Maverick hailed from Paris.”

“_Paris_?” Nick sounded puzzled, “he doesn’t seem like a gentleman.”

Iceman sniggered. “I didn’t think such a persona could hail from such a poised place, either. That is the correct assumption, Nick.” 

* * *

_Maverick insisted in us travelling to Europe. It was boat after boat, countless hours spent heading to where he was born and raised.  
_

_Where he was killed and reborn._

_It was just the two of us. Two, lonesome vampires struggling to find a place in the changing world, leaving a trail of disgraced corpses behind. He never lost sight of his prize: the most prestigious figures he could get his fangs into. Unfortunately for myself, I too was slipping into the rush of the kill. I’d never play it out like Maverick could, I was still far to young to be able to stand the heat._

_Sometimes Maverick would lure me a man, and I would be charmed by their beauty, their lust for life, only to have Maverick bestow upon me of what we were here for. The creatures of the night that we are._

_Finally, after treacherous months at sea, we had reached the French coast. We were the only two survivors of the voyage. _

* * *

“You’re slipping away from me my sweet, sweet Ice.” Maverick posed one night, in their new mansion together.

Iceman upped and headed for his coffin, he fiddled for something in his pocket.

Maverick was sat at his piano, his talented hands delivered a somber piece, almost as though he was accompanying Iceman’s laboured steps or, to hear the words neither could bring themselves to say.

“Ice.” He called. “Mon chér, Iceman.”

Iceman stopped. He turned slowly on his heel. They stood at polar opposite sides of the room. He held a quill pen, and twirled it across his knuckles. Just the tip.

Iceman took in the sight of Maverick, his brown locks tied tight in a bow, the stern look on his heated face, the flare of his nostrils, the deep furrow of his brows.

Maverick was doing the same, his gaze wasn’t as intense but it still shook up Iceman. His eyes twinkled like emeralds as they roamed over Iceman. All of Iceman. His loose, flowing blonde hair that gleamed in the candlelight, how his skin appeared even colder. His lips had parted and his breaths were slow, steady. He was grounded, silently fighting his corner.

Maverick wasn’t having any of it.

“You’re slipping and slipping. You’re not living up to the vampire I’d wrongfully hoped you would become.” Maverick said as he strutted over towards Iceman, crowding him in the corner of the dining room.

Iceman let out a surprise gasp at the sudden proximity. At the anticipated blow.

“You really are the devil, aren’t you?” Iceman retorted, pushing Maverick away. “That’s who you are!”

Maverick paused, the fury suddenly evaporated from him. He stepped back again, his gaze fell to the floor.

“I _wish_ I were.” He suddenly found his cockiness, “but if I were the ulterior vampire, what would I want with a pitiful rule follower like you?”

“I can’t go through with it. I _can’t_, I tell you!” Iceman shook as he ground his words out.

“You’re perfection: bitter and strong. Much like my own lonesome self, when I was living.”

Iceman’s eyes widened, his eyebrows raised in surprise then furrowed in concern. He’d never heard this tone from Maverick before. He had never heard Maverick speak of his past life, never mind the notion of Maverick having himself so vulnerable about it.

Iceman stepped forward and took a firm hold of Maverick’s shoulders. He frowned.

“You haven’t fed enough.”

Maverick looked into his eyes, then his gaze dropped.

“Maverick.”

He didn’t say anything.

“Our kind doesn’t belong in such an esteemed estate, Maverick. We belong in _hell_.” He spat.

Something within Maverick snapped, Iceman saw it.

“And what if there is no hell? What if they don’t want us there, ever?” Maverick yelled, gesturing wildly as he again crowded Iceman.

Iceman coughed something unintelligible into his hand that Maverick couldn’t detangle.

“Fine, stay here. You must feast.” Iceman tilted his head up so that their eyes locked onto one another. “Maverick. For if none other, for me.”

Maverick leaned in closer. Iceman fixed his stone cold eyes on his lips. He reached his arm out, catching Maverick’s ponytail. With a swift tug, he pulled his hair free- letting it cascade down his shoulders.

Maverick was on his tip toes, his hands clasped around the back of Iceman’s neck, in a tight embrace.

Iceman tipped his head down, his hands coming to rest on Maverick’s back, fingers trailing down the knobbly bones of his spine.

Neither man’s gaze wavered. 

* * *

_Am I damned? Am I from the devil?_  
Is my very nature that of a devil?  
And all the while, as these dreaded questions caused me to neglect my thirst, my thirst grew hotter, my veins were threads of pain in my flesh, my temples throbbed.

_Years passed with Maverick. We roamed aimless all over Europe, together. He continued to feast, as did I. He continued taking the lead. A part of me loved it. I was growing as a killer, becoming more confident with who he’d made me to be._

_We were a couple now, as the new century graced us. I should’ve been long dead at this point but neither of us aged. The times changed, we met hundreds of women and took home plenty of unknowing men. The numbers of corpses grew and grew, our powers intensified._

_I could never read minds but, I figured, Maverick couldn’t see and talk to statues. The dark gift is different for everyone._

_We balanced out each other well although he never lost his touch, falling deep into a zone of danger upon the rush of his next feast. And I, contemplated deeply that I was on the road to nowhere, kept myself at his side. _

* * *

Maverick flung himself at Iceman, wrapping his hands around the back of Iceman’s neck. He stiffened, yelped into Maverick’s parted lips.

His fangs brushed against Maverick’s, he began to retreat.

“Sorry, it’s a strange feeling. Man up and get yourself accustomed to it.

“Like I’ve become accustomed to you, mon chér Mav-_erick_.” He added a teasing tone onto the end of his name.

Maverick just rolled his eyes and claimed Iceman’s lips in his own again.

Iceman didn’t retreat, their tongues brushed their fangs and he sighed. The kiss deepened, quicker than either could comprehend.

Maverick took them on a roll, through a rich velvet rug.

“Watch it, I don’t want to ruin this. It’s a beloved piece.”

Maverick groaned. “Trust your thoughts are upon that damned rug.”

Iceman couldn’t voice a retort, Maverick had sealed their lips together again. His hands were all over Iceman who could only moan into his mouth.

“Shut up and just take it. You’re the only companion I will have, _forever_. You might as well at least _like_ me.” They both laughed, short of breath. 

Maverick descended to Iceman’s waist, he kissed the trail of skin above it and fiddled with his belt.

“You took my _life_..”

Maverick removed his lips, a look of uncertainty painted his pale skin.

“..and gave me, another one.”

He rose to up on his forearms and Maverick crawled back up to meet his lips.

The kiss was feverish, both dropped feral moans as clothes were shed. 

* * *

“And then what?” Nick asked, enrapt.

Iceman said nothing, he chuckled slightly as though he was dismissing a thought.

“Wait Wait Wait. What am I missing here?” Nick’s brow furrowed, he cocked his head to the side. 

* * *

It didn’t take them long. They hadn’t changed position, Iceman lay on his back biting his lip as Maverick added another finger.

Maverick was everywhere. His teeth nipped trails all over Iceman’s suddenly heated skin. Iceman was moaning, he coaxed his spine upwards, needing to feel the touch. His heart was racing, his breaths coming too quick as Maverick’s mouth descended lower.

He popped open a single button, and rid Iceman of the final restriction, his last chance to retreat. Iceman gasped deep from within his throat, as a glaringly hot mouth engulfed him, tongue roaming up and down in random and teasing patterns.

Iceman shivered and bucked, moaning and swearing under his breath. He flung a hand up in front of his eyes only to have it immediately batted away.

“I want too.. _hear_ you.” Maverick said, between gasps.

He clutched at Iceman’s right wrist as Iceman bought his left up above his head. Maverick kept his thumb ring close, threatening to pierce Iceman with it if he shifted, or talked back.

All Iceman could do was ride the sensation, the highs of having the man who had wanted him for all of their years together to finally, _finally_ take him. To make him his own in a whole new sense of the word.

Iceman bucked his hips up and Maverick retreated. He stripped himself of the last of his clothing and placed his hands at either side of Iceman’s head. Iceman fought to keep his azure eyes open, to gauge every reaction he provoked from Maverick.

He lined himself up, Iceman took a deep breath and steadied himself. He relaxed some, then grunted harshly as Maverick pushed in.

He was falling deep into a whole other world, Iceman, as though Maverick was about to drain him to cause another, tiny death. Maverick was rocking slow, his lips sucked gently at Iceman’s neck. He stroked the side of Iceman’s face, fingers tracing the grooves and contours and Iceman, leant willingly into his smooth touch. He moaned low, his lips parted and searched for Maverick.

Maverick quickened his pace, Iceman’s grunts punctuated each movement. They were moaning wildly, together, as Maverick shifted again.

He pulled out then slammed back into Iceman, all the way to the hilt. Iceman screamed, all his icy apathy melted away if only for a moment, as a new form of death washed over him. He was shivering uncontrollably, with a desperate hand on himself. He tried and tried to savour his moment; the notion of having Maverick so close to him, inside of him, leading him on in a whole new form of fantasy. Maverick still sang of dominance however, this was a time where neither vampire had missed their target.

Maverick thrusted deep into Iceman a final time and swore, something in French, as his released filled Iceman. He collapsed onto him, both struggled for breath.

The two of them lay there for minutes, an hour. Neither had any desire to move, to plan for the next kill. Maverick’s last bout of energy was dedicated to him pulling out of Iceman and again, collapsing to his heaving side. 

* * *

“Haven’t you a clue what this date is, Iceman?”

Iceman looked up, his eyes had been firmly planted on Maverick’s fingers as he tinkered with the piano keys.

“One hundred.”

Maverick smiled.

“One hundred _what_, my dear?”

“One hundred years to this day, that you made me.” Iceman replied, his voice light.

“Precisely.” Maverick upped and Iceman followed his muscular form. “How can we celebrate such an immense occasion?”

“One hundred years of being driven more and more insane by a wannabe Dracula” they both laughed.“Oh how wrongly they perceived that one, Maverick. I nowhere near have as much of a _will _to _live, _thanks to a certain brunette demon,as they do in the fairytales.”

Maverick’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll re-iterate my idiot fiend, it’s been one hundred years. You will not leave my side at the next faithful opportunity, correct Iceman?”

Iceman’s eyes searched for Maverick’s, he tried to decode the look in his eyes.

Iceman took a step closer. As did Maverick.

“One hundred years ago and I was trailing the lonesome streets of rubble, dirt, grime and plague. I was hunting for you. All I had to do was follow the trail of dead rats. Or the blaze. Pyromaniac.”

“What?”

“No one could resist me. Not even _you_, Iceman.”

Iceman rolled a retort around in his mouth and found himself unintentionally smiling.

“Just shut up. Come fourth to me, Ice.”

“You can and come fourth incredibly needy.”

“I feel an incredible need to be with you, all around you. To torture you night after night.” His tone was light, his gestures dramatic.

“Of course you must, master.” Iceman rolled his eyes.

“Is that, praise the heavens! Did the Iceman just _smile_ at me?”

Iceman turned away again. Damn but he had cracked a small smile. He heard Maverick laugh a hearty laugh and couldn’t help himself. He sauntered over to Maverick and took him by surprise, he ran his tongue up his neck and thrusted it into his ear. He revelled in the shiver.

“Oh mon chér, I am the prodigy of the Brat Prince, no? Mustn’t one have his turn at following his masters guide, alone? I’ve listened and learned, now it’s the time that I bestow upon you, your own tiny death.”

“The hell are you calling a brat— oh, _oh_.”

Iceman smirked.

“You resist the one thing that brings you peace, Mav-_erick_?”

He chuckled to himself, “I was correct, evil really is a point of view.”

“And what an evil you must be to not let me.. _top_ you.”

Maverick crushed their lips together, hands in Iceman’s hair, hands on his back, roaming wherever they wanted to go. He thrusted his hips forward and moaned into Iceman’s parted mouth.

That was enough of an answer that The Damnedest Creature couldn’t refuse his Dark Angel. 

* * *

_And thus I have come to an appropriate stop. You must be near out of tape. Life goes on with Maverick, without Maverick, we encounter more and more of our kind along the way. Having finally encountered the oldest vampire Slider who I.. I, damnit, too became accustomed. I miss him, he is sure to.. miss me. Just know that for now, if and when you ever do hear myself blithering on again that, Maverick himself wouldn’t need no introduction._

“What? That’s it? You’re leading me on, Iceman. There’s plenty more of Maverick that you’re keeping from me.”

The vampire didn’t answer, he only fixed his gaze onto the cracked cream wall in front of him.

”God, the things I would give to have what you have. To see what you have seen. Please, I want what you have. Make me one of you.”

”I’ve failed again, haven’t I?”

”Failed wha—“ Nick yelped.

Iceman rushed to his side and Nick jumped a foot into the air. He was hauled to his feet, ripped from his chair as Iceman took them higher and higher. His eyes screamed Nick’s fateful end, his fangs sunk deeper and his nails pierced his skin.

”Do you like this? Do you like _dying_?!” Iceman bellowed. 

He dropped Nick to the floor.

Nick turned around, sweat dripping from his golden brown hair, to find that he was alone. He scanned the room, turned himself back to the desk. He ran a shaky hand through his hair and shook it, he clutched at his neck laughing in disbelief.

He grabbed at his things and bolted for the door. Papers flew everywhere, he didn’t even try to save them. He was fast approaching his car, hand running desperately at his neck. He threw his bag onto the passenger seat. 

Nick reached forward and grabbed the first tape. He played it, looking in his mirror. He hadn’t a scratch.

_So, you want me to tell you the story of my life. You’d have to have a lot of tape for my story. I’ve had a very unusual life…_

“1791 was the year that you first encountered Maverick, huh Iceman?” 

Nick was smiling in both confusion and a strange admiration. He gained speed, heading straight for the bridge, as fast as he could coax the car to go.

All of a sudden the car shook, took a turn, as Nick struggled to keep her roaring engine within the lane. There was a cold, solid grip on his mouth. The radiating heat of something inhuman at his back.

”I assume I need no introduction.”

Nick squinted, he could barely make out the ghostly figure that hovered above him. The next thing he knew he was screaming in agony, kicking to no avail. 

“I’m going to give you the _choice_ that I never had.” The voice pierced Nick’s ears, he struggled to focus.

The tape continued to play, the vampire rolled his eyes.

”You really are a silly _goose_ aren’t you, Nick?” Nick was still struggling, Maverick decided to put him out of his misery.

_I had just lost my sister during childbirth. Her and her infant had been buried less than a year._

He smirked to himself.

_I hadn’t any other family. I was twenty four and couldn’t bare the pain of her loss, there wasn’t a soul on earth who could comfort me, who could keep me going. _

“Oh Ice, Ice, Ice... always _whining_.”

He heard Nick stir as he took the wheel.

”Have you any ideas how many centuries I’ve had him blithering on, full of self pity? It’s pathetic.” He spat.

Maverick yanked out his frilled sleeves from under his leather jacket. He was laughing, honest to the devil himself laughing, as Nick’s breath quickened. He convulsed, shook with sweat, panting harshly.

”Maverick and Goose.. _interesting. _Pleasure to turn you,mon chér.”


End file.
